interesting. And there was someone with the army that I was fond of although we were together but for a little time.”
Sardec has not realised he had made such a deep impression on the girl. He was astonished to find he was even a little touched. “I am pleased to see you.”
She looked as if she did not know whether she wanted to laugh or to cry. “I am glad someone is,” she said. Her words seemed odd to him, but he had not much experience of these situations.
“Do you have a place to sleep?” he asked.
“We came with a merchant caravan out of Redtower. We have only just arrived. That is what we were discussing with those soldiers. My friends and I wanted a place to stay. We were talking about it, when you arrived.”
It was quite common for some of the officers to keep human women. It would not be difficult for him to arrange a place for her to stay if he wanted. The question was whether he wanted to. Did he need this complication to his life? There was not much left to be ashamed of. His younger fellows knew what had happened on Solstice and seemed even to respect him more for it. The trip to Deep Achenar and his wound had gained him a lot of prestige and his defence of the fort and reception by Lord Azaar still more. He doubted a thing like this would hurt his reputation and he did not care.
Something had happened to him at Deep Achenar. He raised the hook to look at it. He had almost died in that hell-pit. He might well die during the course of this war. Why should he care about appearances? Why should he not have what he wanted, if he was willing to pay the price? He wanted this girl and he found he even sympathised with her a little.
“I will arrange it,” he said. He spoke it as a Terrarch should to a human, peremptorily, with every expectation of getting no objections, then he saw she too was looking at his hook. It struck him that perhaps she felt revulsion towards it, the way he sometimes did, and he realised that he did not want her there if she could only look on him with horror so he added; “If you wish.”
She raised her hand to her mouth and looked at him. He wondered if she had read his own feelings on his face. “My friends, sir. They have no place to go.”
“I will see to it that they are looked after as well.” And he would. He had come to a decision. Even if the girl could not stand the sight of his hand, he would see to it. He would do it because he wanted to, and it pleased him to do so.
“I will go with you, sir,” she said. There was trust in her voice. That touched Sardec too.
“Is something bothering you, Master Rik,” said Karim. He paused to look around. They were in the Terrarch part of the camp, and in the distance, he could see Rena and her two friends walking along in the company of none other than Lieutenant Sardec.
“No,” Rik lied. He might have bloody well guessed. What had he expected? It had not taken her long to find her Terrarch lover had it. He did not know why he had expected better. Sardec was an officer. He was rich. It did not matter to her that he would use her and discard her once he was fed up of her. She could not see past the glitter of his noble title. She deserved what was going to happen to her, and he was glad.
Only why did it have to be Sardec? He could have accepted any of the other officers, but not him. Sardec had made his life miserable from the get-go. Sardec hated him for being who he was. She must know that too. It was as if she had deliberately chosen this to annoy him.
Well, what did it matter? He wrenched his mind away from Rena and forced himself to concentrate on what the Lady Asea might want. She was, after all, the most dangerous person he had ever met.
Chapter Nine
Asea had placed her tent on the hill where the rest of the Terrarchs had pitched theirs, but hers was slightly apart, in the space between the land used by the officers and the army’s sorcerers. There was a clear area all around, as it were being shunned even by other Terrarchs.
The tent was the same sorcerous self-erecting structure she had used on the trek to Deep Achenar. Just the sight of it filled Rik with foreboding. That was an adventure that had not turned out well. It had led to the death of his closest friend and an encounter with an ancient demon god. They had been lucky to get out of Achenar with their lives.
Rik felt as if unseen eyes were watching him, which perhaps they were. The Magisters of the army had most likely placed warding spells on the area, and there were sentries among the tents to make sure nothing untoward happened to the High Command while they slept.
Karim gestured for him to wait and disappeared inside the tent. A moment later, he reappeared and held the tent flap open, ushering Rik inside. As the youth stepped inside he felt as if he were passing through an invisible barrier. It was much quieter within than without. The night sounds of the camp were all but inaudible. Here was a subtle magic, he thought.
The tent’s interior was a small, separate world of luxury. Thick carpets from the southern lands covered the floor. A glowstone set on a rune-marked brass tripod provided light and a little heat. Incense rose from small stands in each corner. Lady Asea sat in a corner on a folding chair reading a book; in front of her was a small portable table. On it stood a silver tea service and cups. She looked up as he entered. In the shadows, her inhuman face had a sinister loveliness.
“You wanted to see me, milady?” Rik said. He knew it was not his place to speak first, but he was in a mood to test things.
“Yes, Rik, I do. There is much that we should talk about and we can do it here without eavesdroppers. The spells that keep the noise out also keep our words unheard by any but us.”
“Is such secrecy necessary, milady? I am but a common soldier.”
“I am rather afraid it is, Rik, and there is no need to call me milady, at least here in private.”
“Thank you, milady.”
“I have not forgotten about you, Rik, while I was away. Quite the contrary, I have been looking into your background. I’ve been to Sorrow among other places.”
“I had not realised my past was that important.”
“It is good that you did not. I fear you might have drawn unwelcome attention to yourself if you did.”
“What do you mean?”
“All in good time. This is a story best told with all the events in their proper order.”
Rik said nothing. If she was determined to be mysterious there was nothing he could do about it.
She gestured for him to take a seat and indicated that he should help himself to some tea. He sat but he did not drink. He studied her face. Lady Asea was said to be over two thousand years old but there was no trace of age in her features, no lines, no coarsening of the skin. There was no real sign of it in her eyes, which were larger than a mortals, and somehow inhuman, although he could not put his finger on exactly why. Perhaps the pupils were slightly bigger; perhaps the iris was flecked in a subtle way. She did not seem discomposed by his scrutiny, but returned it just as levelly.
“I visited the Temple Orphanage on Rose Street,” she said. “A depressing place.”
Just the words brought the memories back with feverish intensity. The gloomy corridors, the cobwebs in high places, the musty smell forever at war with the reek of cabbage cooking, the dimness and the sounds of children crying, and the endless chanting of joyless prayers.
“I always found it so,” he said.
“I am not surprised. The ratepayers of Sorrow are not overly generous in their support of the unfortunate. But that need not concern us here. What should concern us is that I found your name and your mother’s on the Temple register. And I talked to the Master in charge”
“Pternius?” His image flickered through Rik’s mind, a tall, doleful looking Terrarch, not cruel like some of the Temple masters, just disappointed as if he had expected better from life and not found it.
“The same. He remembered a boy called Rik, who ran away when he was eight along with a boy called Leon. He also remembered the night when your mother was brought in. The Temple is not just an orphanage, it’s an almshouse and a hospital for the poor.”
